New Begginings
by Penguin2
Summary: As the war rages on Harry must battle his inner demons. (R/H, H/G)


_Disclaimer:__ As usual everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I'm just borrowing, if they were mine I'd be filthy rich (which I'm not)._

_A/N:__ Hi everyone. Just want to clarify a few things. The Prologue is a brief recap of what's happened to Harry this last 2 years. It's a bit unclear I know, sorry for that, but I'm still getting the hang of this fanfic writing thing J. So as not to make it so burdensome and depressive I've decided to add chapter 1 along with it, which is more cheerful but I'm naming the whole thing Chapter 1 so that it can go all together. Try to grit your teeth and read all of the Prologue, I swear, after that things DO get better._

New Beginnings

Chapter 1: Changes

Prologue: Memories

He ran. He didn't know what it was he was running from, all he knew was that if he stopped it would all be over. But it was useless, it drew nearer and nearer, slowly, showing him that it could catch him whenever he wished, that it was just taking its time. Suddenly he stumbled. He closed his eyes and braced for the impact. He felt himself smiling as he fell, a smile of relief, relief at the end of this never ending escape.

But the ground never came. He opened his eyes again, and he was back at the cemetery. He looked around and was not surprised to find Cedric's body, he ran towards it, knowing that he was already dead. He knelt down beside it, almost as if in defeat. He looked down to Cedric's body, expecting to see it contorted in a look of surprise and horror, instead he was looking at him.

Take my body back to my parents, Harry. He said.

Harry tried to grab Cedric's hand but suddenly the earth began to shake; a hole appeared beneath Cedric and swallowed him so quickly that the last thing he saw was Cedric's face looking at him with a question written on it: Why?. 

Harry ran, the cool July morning air passing through his face drying up the beads of sweat that flowed down freely through it leaving a cold trail behind them. He put on an extra spurt of speed even though his muscles were already starting to ache from the prolonged effort he had forced them through during the past hour. He didn't mind the pain, in fact it gave him an odd sense of satisfaction, it confirmed that he wasn't completely numb as he felt. 

Although it had been two years (had it? It seemed so much less) since that loathsome day when Harry had touched the TriWizard cup along with Cedric transporting them to the Little Hangleton cemetery where Voldemort had risen again, he was still haunted with nightmares as the one of last night. Against his will the contents of the dream flowed back into his mind and the meaning of them imposed onto him no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He had failed. Even when logic told him that there had been nothing that he could have done, he still held himself responsible for the consequences of Voldemort's resurgence. He had allowed _him_ to use his blood to carry out the plan that would allow him to restore his body and start again his reign of terror. Because of his weakness, his _failure_, Cedric was dead now.

Thinking about the death of the Hufflepuff Seeker led to the other people he unwittingly had caused. There was Hagrid, his first connection to the Wizarding world after the death of his parents, who had died under the hand of one of the Death Eaters that Voldemort had sent to capture Harry off during his fifth year at Hogwarts. After months of hiding in the castle (an incredible feat considering the extra magical wards and Dark Magic detectors that had been installed at the beginning of the year) the infiltrator had taken advantage of one of Harry's regular visits to Hagrid's cabin and sprung up on Harry. Time had seemed to slow down at that point and everything had happened at once. One second Hagrid had been standing a few yards away, waving at him with a smile on his face, the other he Hagrid's enormous body was in between him and the attacker launching itself against him, crushing him in a powerful bear hug which, as Harry found out later, had broken most of the Death Eaters ribs. Yet, with its last breath, the assailant had managed to cast the Killing Curse, _Avada Kedavra._ . And before Harry's eyes, in a flash of green light, one his best friends, the person who had always been there when he had needed him, who had never failed him, to whom he owed having escaped from the bleak prospect of a life that awaited him at the Dursley's, was killed, his existence snuffed out like a candle. Another life ended early because of him.

Then there had been Tom Withers, a young Auror which had been assigned to escort Harry whenever he left the protection of the castle wall, a special request from Sirius to Dumbledore after Hagrid's death. He had been so eager, so brimming with enthusiasm, it had been his first important assignment. No less than taking care of famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived! He'd use to tell Harry how he was the envy of all his colleagues, how everyone had wanted this assignment. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. In a trip to Hogsmeade the carriage that had been transporting Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny (an extra security measure added recently), had been ambushed by a group of Death Eaters. Tim, who had been riding on the outside, had quickly found himself overwhelmed. Dumbledore, expecting such an attack, had prepared a set of Portkeys which were stored inside compartments, thus allowing them to escape. Tim, however, in an attempt to buy some time so Harry and the others could escape, had jumped off the carriage and began attacking the Death Eaters, trying to lure them away. It worked, but at a price: Tim's life.

Then there were also those dozens of muggles and muggle-borns that had been tortured and killed in the past two years and the many more that would surely suffer the same fate this year.

Soon Harry had found himself with too many bottled up emotions inside himself, anger predominantly, so he had taken up running every morning finding the exercise cleansing in a sort of way, as if he could sweat out everything that was eating him from the inside. 

Well -he thought- at least I have one good thing to look forward too, just one more day and I'm off to the Burrow for the rest of the holidays.

  


Leaving for the Burrow

Harry opened the door as quietly as possible and tiptoed inside. Six in the morning was much earlier than the waking time of any of the Dursleys, but still he didn't want to risk waking any of them up. Now that he was almost seventeen Harry no longer let himself be bullied by them, but that didn't mean that he wanted Vernon screaming at him that he didn't want him being seen by the neighbours.

Harry didn't bother to hide the fact that he woke up every morning and went for a run, long gone were the days when he had been bossed around and not allowed to do anything that he wanted. Still he'd rather avoid a confontation with the Durlseys when possible so he had never really told them of his morning routine.

Harry froze. He had heard a noise in the bathroom upstairs. An angry cry (probably from a razor cut) told him that it was Uncle Vernon. It suddenly dawned on Harry that today Vernon was leaving on a business trip to the continent today, and that he would likely be leaving early.

"Bloody hell"-Harry muttered to himself, annoyed at his own forgetfulness.

He briefly considered going back outside and waiting till Vernon left.

But no, he wouldn't keep hiding from the Dursley's, they held almost no power over him right now. In 12 hours he would be leaving Privet Drive for good. It had all been arranged with Dumbledore. He would go to the Burrow for the rest of the summer holidays, and at the end of his school year he would be free to do whatever he wanted his life, not that he knew _what_ he would do.

In fact, by the looks of it he didn't know if he would be alive at the end of the year. For he had decided that this year he would take a definite stand against Voldemort. No more hiding behind Dumbledore and the walls of Hogwarts, he'd end what he'd started or die trying, but one thing was certain: he couldn't stand aside while more innocent people died because (and sometimes for) him.

Filled with resolve he trudged up the stairs, not caring that he was making a racket in the process. Before he had even gotten to the top he was already confronted by a very purple-faced Vernon.

"_What _are you doing here?" - He said, his voice strained, emphasizing each word.

"Going to the bathroom to take a shower"-Harry answered matter-of -factly.

"Like ruddy hell you are!" -Vernon exclaimed- "You are going back to your room now, if you don't want me to beat the living daylights out of you!"

But before Harry could answer back he was interrupted by the shrilly voice of Aunt Petunia.

"Vernon? What's going on out there? Haven't you left yet?" -She said.

"It's nothing Petunia dear"-Vernon answered in a forced calm voice.-"See what you've done? You've gone and upset your aunt, and you know that she's not to be aggravated! You'll be paying dearly for this."

Harry contained a grunt of irritation. Ever since Petunia had had a nervous breakdown a few weeks ago they had all been forced to tiptoe around her, especially Harry. At least she had kept to her room most of the time, something he had been grateful for. On the other hand it had been partly _his_ fault that it had happened. A reporter of the Daily Prophet had somehow managed to run into him on a trip to the muggle supermarket and cornered him and the Dursleys in an alley. 

It had been too much for Petunia to handle and she had practically fainted in the spot. Luckily some ministry wizards had apparated within a moment (Petunia _did_ faint at this) and captured and modified the memory of the reporter (not that the Dursley's would be going to that same supermarket ever again).

The real trouble had started when Petunia had woken up and immediately fallen into a fit of hysterics. Vernon had had to go to the nearest farmacy to get some sedating pills for her and then had rushed her to the hospital.

When he had returned after making sure that Petunia had been admitted, the look on his face when he had looked at Harry had been of hatred so intense that it had practically rivaled Voldemort's. Harry had been sure that if he had shared the same kind of connection with Vernon that he did with Voldemort he would have been in the floor in intense agony.

In fact it looked like if Vernon would forget of Harry's magical powers and really knock the living daylights out of him. Instead he had just sent Harry to his room without a further word and then refused to acknowledge his existence for the following weeks. He had even stopped feeding him, so Harry had had to owl his friends and ask them to send him food. Luckily there were some charms that could be used to maintain food hot and dry even after long owl journey. Looking back on it, Vernon had in fact done him a favor for now he was receiving daily parcels from the Burrow (they had finally bought a new post owl) with Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking. Harry was eating better this summer than any other (except when he had actually _been_ at the Burrow).

For those four weeks he had avoided the Dursley's almost entirely, going down to the living room and kitchen only when he was sure that they had all left the house or at hours when he was sure they would be asleep. In fact this was the first time that he had spent more than three seconds in the same room with any of them.

"Go to your room. Now!" -Vernon said through clenched teeth. -"Before she sees you."

Not wanting to prolong this any longer than he had to, Harry went past Vernon without a word and went inside his room, locking the door behind him. He would take a shower later when Vernon wasn't here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day went without incident, by the afternoon with only fifteen minutes to go till the contact that Dumbledore had sent him would come and pick him up, Harry was already in the living room with all his things packed inside his trunk and Hedwig inside her cage. He planned to leave without telling anything to the Dursley's, not that they would care anyway.

But Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had told him the year he had come to pick him up in the summer prior to his fourth year. They were his only relatives after all. He picked up a piece of stationary from the living room table (he didn't think that the Dursley's would appreciate a piece of parchment) and wrote:

_Left for good. I'm not coming back. Thanks for everything._

_ Harry._

He left the note on the kitchen counter.

At exactly six, the doorbell chimed and Harry went outside. A young wizard (he had a wand partly hidden in his hand) dressed in a muggle suit was waiting for him.

"Harry Potter?" -He asked.

"Yes."-Harry replied.

"Come with me."

"What about my stuff?"

The wizard took out his wand and levitated his trunk and the cage outside.

Harry closed the door to the house and followed the wizard, not once looking back to the house in which he had lived for more than half his life, more than ready to begin this new stage of his life in which he would be able to really be free.

_End of Chapter 1_

_A/N: So finishes the first chapter of my first ever fanfic! I know, I know, its pretty depressive and you are probably all hating me for having killed off Hagrid, but it was important for me to do this so that you could understand what Harry's state of mind is at this point, it'll be a key factor on his actions (and those of the people around him) during the rest of the story. I apologize if I have taken any ideas from anyone's fanfic, if you recognize any similarities let me know and I'll give you proper credit. Plz review ppl._


End file.
